290 DIANA MALLORY

necessary to answer them. Yon will tell thorn that
have broken off the engagement.

4 You were very good to me yesterday,—I thank y<
with all my heart. But it is not in my power—yet—-
forget it all. My mother was BO young—and it seer
but the other day.

*1 would not injitre your career for the world. I ho]
that all good will corae to you—always.

' Probably Mrs. Golwood and I shall go abroad for
little while. I want to be alone—and it will be easiest s
Indeed if possible we shall leave London to-morro
night. Good-bye.

1 DIANA.'

She rose, and stood looking down upon the letter.
thought struck her. Would he take the sentence givir
the probable time of her departure's an invitation •
him to come-and meet her at th6^_^Xsir-as showir
a hope that he might yet persist—and prev^?

She stooped impetuously to re-write the lette
Instead, her tears fell on it. Sobbing, she put it up—rsl
pressed it to her lips. If he did come—-might they m
press hands?—look into each other's eyes?—just onq
once more ?

An hour later the home was in a bustle of packin
and housekeeping arrangements. Muriel Colwood, wit
a small set face and lips, and eyes that would this tin
have scorned to cry, was^ writing notes and givrn
directions. Meanwhile Diana had written to Mrs. Bougl
sedge, and Instead of answering the letter, the recipiat
appeared In person, breathless with the haste she ha
made, the grey curls displaced,

Diana told her story, her slender fingers quivering i
the large motherly hand whose grasp soothed hef, ftti